


We Never Had Enough

by KanraTheTeddyB3ar



Series: A Little Love [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: I just had to get this out, been watching a lot of morgana vids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanraTheTeddyB3ar/pseuds/KanraTheTeddyB3ar
Summary: In death, Morgana reflects on her life, on her seemingly inescapable fate.





	We Never Had Enough

**Author's Note:**

> First in a series of fics that I just really need to get out of my system. I mourn so heavily for Morgana, for what was done to her in the show. She deserved so much better.

Death is a four letter word.

Death was not meant to touch her. She was the last High Priestess of the Old Religion. She should have lived forever. She should have had Camelot in the palm of her hand, its citizens begging she show mercy. Her people finally free to live their lives, to use their magic.

Death is a four walled room.

It resembles her room in Camelot. Not at all like the last she’d ever been in the castle, nor like her damned hovel in the woods. No, this was the room she’d had when she’d been an innocent, unknowing of the world and its cruelty. Before she was betrayed. Before she found a new family.

Death is surprisingly warm.

The fire that crackles does not give off a harsh cold. It is warm. She thinks to shrug off her overcoat, looking down to do so. She isn’t in that black and green monstrosity. She’s wearing one of her fine gowns, the blue one. She’d favored it the most. Her hair isn’t the tangled, barely brushed mess, but finely combed, hanging in full, soft waves. She almost cries from the change.

Death is her heart.

“Cold as stone” Gaius had said. Or had it been Gaius? Had it been something else that glimpsed the walls that had held the place of her heart? For even as the years passed, as she hardened into something unrecognizable, her heart was still warm. Hot like a flame, threatening to burn through.

Love is a four letter word.

Love. She’d held it for someone, so long ago. Still held it. It had been her greatest burden, loving. All the wounds they’d inflicted upon each other, and the worst was that unspoken, three word phrase. She’d loved, and loved. When she shouldn’t have, when she couldn’t have.

Love is a cage.

The love she’d held hadn’t always been romantic. Nor was it the only love she’d held. There had been so many she’d loved, so many she betrayed. But her course had seemed clear, her fate in stone. No chance to veer, no chance to rewrite, to wrestle the very stars. The gods had decided her fate. Those she’d once cared for had decided her fate.

And who had she been, to try to deny fate?


End file.
